


Coming Back Again

by Haunted_Frost



Series: Five Lights [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Archangel Sam Winchester, Brotherhood, Family Feels, Gen, Human Lucifer (Supernatural), Human Michael (Supernatural), Human Raphael, Oneshot, Time Travel, Vessels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 16:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13322274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunted_Frost/pseuds/Haunted_Frost
Summary: Chuck decided, after the whole fiasco with Amara resurrecting his sons, that they deserved a human life.  Gabriel's assignment, after running so far, was to stay close and protect his now-human brothers in the past.Snippets of their lives come together, and they realize that no matter what, the universe seems to circle around back to them.





	Coming Back Again

_"I wish for you three to become what I meant you to protect. To be human. That is my Plan."_

Gabriel snorted, looking at the happy couple.  They were human, blissful and anxious with their first child. 

 _Those are my aunt and uncle.  And they'd better take good care of those three._  Of course, he knew better—the couple would care for them, but ultimately, the road would be hard. 

It wouldn’t be their family if it wasn’t. 

So, Gabriel glanced again at the couple holding a little baby—his oldest brother, who had seen the beginning of creation—babbling and giggling and cooing as they gave him a new toy and tickled him. 

 _The blackmail material I’ll have on you_ , he mused with a grin.  And snapped his fingers. 

* * *

Michael was waddling—it couldn’t really be called walking—across to see the new arrival.  The two-year-old stared into the crib, using the bars for support as he stood. 

Gabriel smiled as his two older brothers acquainted themselves with one another.  He thought for a moment before snapping, leaving a small package at the front door.  Some toys, and embroidered pillows—the couple was frustrated as no one would put ‘Lucifer’ on anything.  Neither questioned it—a little blessing, Gabriel mused—and they’d had to settle for his middle name, Nicholas.  The former trickster stepped in, changing it all to Lucifer instead. 

And when Raphael came along, made a matching set. 

* * *

 

"This is  _too_ good," Gabriel cackled, absolutely delighted with this turn of events.  

For Halloween, little Lucifer was obsessed with Star Wars and demanded to be Luke, telling Mike that he had to be Darth because their dad was too tall.  Michael didn't have the heart to ignore the sad. shining eyes of a begging child (who honestly wasn't that much younger than him; come on bro, get it together), and so Michael had gone to the Dark Side of the force, and Lucifer to the light.  

And Raphael, too young to care, was a tiny Chewie.  

* * *

“But _Miiiike,_ ” whined Luc—their shortened names were really kind of cute, Gabriel thought.  They were little still—Mike was seven, in school, Luc was five, about to be, and Raph was two. 

“Soon you’ll like it.  School’s kind of fun.  We get to color and talk and learn about numbers and letters,” Mike replied. 

“You’re old.  You don’t know what fun is,” the middle sibling huffed, turning.  Gabriel snickered.  Maybe he could get a little more involved.  The parents needed a sitter with their long-hour jobs.  He could totally do that.  Mary Poppins style. 

Hearing the kids shriek “GABE!” when he showed up at the door?  Priceless.  And the parents didn’t seem to mind.  But he couldn’t have them wondering why he didn’t age, or why he didn’t seem to have a car, or a personal life.  Kids were smart.  Adults sometimes, too.  So, when Mike was twelve, he let himself kind of fade out of their lives. 

Visibly, at least.  He still showed up invisibly just in case. 

And that’s why, when Mike hit high school and was a total jock but also a genius, Gabriel followed at every football game.  Lucifer was more of a music kind of guy—Gabriel was a little surprised that it had carried over from the Angel of Music, but pleasantly so.  He was the witty smartass with a guitar that could win anyone over, even though he was a troublemaker.  Raphael was a bit of a science geek. 

Good to see nothing had really changed. 

* * *

 

 

When Marie, their mother, started to get sick, Gabriel did what he could.  The cancer was fast-moving, and he donned a doctor’s coat the second she was in the hospital, ready to heal her. 

She wasn’t dead, but there were some things beyond even his power.  The brain tumor had been removed, but she was never the same, always a little absent-minded, bleary-eyed.  The delicate parts of the brain that now kept her from them were too fragile for him to heal. 

He could just as easily kill her as cure her. 

So, when the cancer returned, and she assured them that she didn’t want to go through chemo only to get her brain more fried, it wasn’t pretty.  Lucifer stormed away, locked himself in his room.  Michael ducked his head, and asked Raphael if he wanted anything for dinner. 

Even Gabriel was shocked to see his taciturn brother explode. 

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”  Raphael yelled, storming out of the house.  The archangel debated going himself in disguise.  It would be easy—but this Raphael didn’t know him, and he didn’t really trust himself to get through a conversation about dear old Dad without dropping bombs not meant to be dropped.  It was time to call in some reinforcements. 

* * *

 

Raphael stared at the cross hanging in the church. After seeing his mother suffer in the hospital, he had a hard time having faith in a loving, merciful god.

"I'm not sure what to believe anymore," he sighed.

"You've said that before," observed a voice from behind him. He turned. Two people, about his age, were standing in the aisle.

"No. This is the first time I've admitted anything like that," he argued, and it was true. He'd had his doubts with his somewhat-religious parents' beliefs for a few years now, but he'd not said a word.

"Maybe. Maybe not," smiled the girl. "I'm Ambriel. This is Samandriel. And you're Raphael."

"How'd you know? Are you a parishioner, or a friend of Luc's?"

"Neither, really," shrugged the guy with the ridiculously long name.

"You might say we're just an errand-girl and her considerate boyfriend," she smirked a little, pushing her glasses up her nose. Raphael snorted at the little apologetic grimace the blonde guy gave. Being a freshman in high school with two older brothers enlightened him to the way relationships worked much quicker than the average kid. Especially with Luc. This guy was  _whipped_. He probably hadn't had a choice to come.

"And what's the errand?"

"To let you know that God is watching you and your brothers."

"You're not Jehovah's Witnesses?" he glared.

"No. Really. Believe me, there's a God. He's a little less perfect than humans claim, has a drinking problem, but he's not forgotten you three."

"Why us?" She smiled.

"Not allowed to tell yet. But He figured you'd need a pep talk."

"What?" but they were gone. He blinked. No one else was in the church. Huh.

He looked up the names Samandriel and Ambriel when he got home. Angels were mentioned. A relieved little smile crept up his face.

_Thank you for watching. Thank you for telling me that you're here._

Gabriel smiled at the prayer. 

* * *

 

Lucifer slammed the door. 

“I don’t want to hear it, Mike!”

“Why the hell would you run like that, Luc?  We haven’t seen you for three days!”

“Because I wanted to be freaking _alone_.  Can’t have privacy now I guess.  Big bro’s too worried about my _safety_ in a town where the policemen get paid to do nothing.  I’m not stupid!”

“Well, you’re sure fooling me!  _Why_ did you run?”

“Because you _scared_ me, dammit!” Mike stopped, breathing at his brother’s door. 

“What?”

“That look in your eyes . . . when you started yelling about Mom dying, about how it wasn’t fair to Dad to get all angry and angsty about it . . . I . . . don’t know why . . . I thought you were going to hit me.”  Silence.  Dead silence. 

“Luc,” Mike said, pained, “Why in _God’s_ name would you think . . . I’d never . . .”

“I don’t know,” Lucifer said quietly, “But I’ve had nightmares a couple of times.  Of you throwing me down into a pit.  Or something.  Or just shoving me around, fighting, and I beg you not to, but you don’t stop, and . . .”  He paused. 

“In one, you threatened to kill me.  I begged you to stop, but you told me there was no other choice.”

“Lucifer, _never_ ,” Mike strained, because _hell_ , he’d had nightmares, but not about that.  And sure, Luc aggravated him sometimes.  But he loved his brother.  He’d never do that.  Never. 

“I swear.  I wouldn’t do that. Not for anyone.” 

Gabe stared incredulously.  This was an accidental, subconscious apology if he’d ever heard one.  What the actual hell. . .  it was  _f_ _or_ the actual hell.  Wow. 

* * *

Lucifer sighed, running a hand through his hair in fake worry.  Okay, he was a little nervous, but it never hurt to pretend it was fake.  She was the prettiest girl in his class, after all. 

“Would you go to prom with me?”  The girl in question, Anne, gaped. 

“Oh my God.  Yes.” 

“Kinda the opposite of God, don’t you think?” he snorted, “But thanks.”  She smirked up at him. 

“Right.  I’m going on a date with the Devil.  Sounds like a bad movie.”

“I happen to like bad movies.  They’re great to laugh at and talk over.”

* * *

Gabriel was _so_ going to lord it over Lucifer—the scene phase?  Adorable.  Alt-punk-rock and everything.  He even did the ratty black nail polish thing. And he was willing to  _pun_ about it.  

_If my name’s the Devil I can’t exactly do normal, dad!_

Yeah, Luci, _that’s_ why you’re always a supposed outcast. Nothing to do with your own bad taste in music and supposed bad-boy image.  

* * *

Mike smiled to himself. He was a freshman in college at Stanford, and his brothers were both still in high school. Naturally his wild roommate, a guy named Eric, brought him to the party with plenty of alcohol. Mike hadn't let loose like this before . . . he had been too busy setting a good example for his brothers. One little beer wouldn't kill him, though, and he wasn't going to be a complete hardass anymore. Especially after his younger brother had run away and he'd had to look for him with his baby brother. Luc had admitted he was afraid Mike might hurt him after an argument.

Mike had never laid a hand on his brother like that. He refused to let his anger get too much of a hold on him, to become whatever his little brother feared he might be. He wouldn't let himself ever actually hurt Luc.

So he was loosening up. Hard to do, when he was determined to pay for his own education so his parents would be willing to pay for Luc and Raph. No crazy partying—but enough to relax.

He ran straight into a tall, lanky guy on the way in. Smooth, Mike. Real smooth.

"Dude, sorry," Mike said, glad neither had been holding a drink to spill.

"Don't worry about it, man," shrugged the guy. He looked bizarrely familiar, even though Mike was sure he'd never seen the guy in his life. Something popped into his head-Winchester. He didn't know any Winchesters.

"Sam, come on!" giggled the girl that was grabbing his hand. Mike recognized her—Jessica, a junior from his American History course. He'd had enough AP credit to skip some classes.

"Hey, Mike," she called over her shoulder, "Glad to see you're enjoying yourself." He smiled.

"Me, too."

* * *

He sighed.  Finally, Mike had declared his major after taking different classes.  He liked classic literature, but hated the idea of teaching, so he was studying to be a librarian.  Luc laughed at him over Skype for a moment. 

“Football star Mike Edlund sitting in a library,” he chortled.  Raphael fought a burst of laughter and sighed, shaking his head. 

“Please,” Mike rolled his eyes, “What are you going to do out of high school, Luc?”  A pause. 

“I don’t think I’m going to college, Mike.  Dad is great about supporting me, and I’m sure you’re having fun, but I _hate_ school.  I’m not gonna end up with a doctorate in this or that.  I think I want to work and figure out what I’m doing.”

“As in fast food fryer or starving artist?”

“I’ll figure it out.  I don’t know what I’m doing yet—I’m a junior still, Mike.  Have to take the ACT, apply for colleges I’m not going to, all that.”

“Luc,” Mike sighed, exasperated, “I just don’t want you setting yourself up for something you don’t expect.  Mom wouldn’t want you throwing yourself away.”

“How would you know?” Lucifer replied bitterly.  Mike stopped, face contorting with anger. 

“That was too far, Lucifer,” Raphael warned. 

“And so what?” he snapped, “You don’t exactly seem to _care_ what I think.  Mom would’ve wanted me to be happy, right?”

“Right.  She would have wanted you to be happy and safe and healthy.  For a long time,” Mike replied, anger simmering down.  He didn’t want to prove Lucifer right—that he was going to hurt him someday.  He wouldn’t do it. 

“Yeah.”

* * *

Raphael clapped at Lucifer’s graduation.  Mike was there next to him, their dad on the other side of Mike.  Dad had gone kind of distant—not abusive or neglecting, but there was some part of him that died with their mother. 

It wasn’t something Raphael had quite gotten over, either. 

But he was proud of Lucifer for at least not dropping out completely.  He knew—living with Lucifer all his life—that his older brother wasn’t going to stay long.  He was going to run off.  He only hoped that he’d stay in touch. 

“Hey Luc, can I have your number, wherever you end up?  Can you call me once in a while?” he asked. 

“I won’t give you my number when I don’t have one, Raph,” he responded, chuckling, “But I’ll call.  Not a lot.  But I’ll call.”

* * *

Raphael studied hard.  Michael studied hard.  Lucifer worked hard.  Michael, now a librarian at Stanford (he’d gotten lucky when the one he’d been an aide for retired), was perfectly fine cataloging and reading.  He turned twenty-two shortly after graduation and figured he wouldn’t have to do post graduate studies for some time, if at all. 

Lucifer, now twenty, was on the road.  He’d played gigs with his guitar and a microphone at any dive he could, and bussed anywhere else.  He lied at the newest place, a small bar and grill kind of joint that was family-style during the day.  The owner was a guy that looked painfully familiar for some reason, but Luc wasn’t too concerned.  Maybe now he could get away a bit from small-town-USA and be normal.  He’d learned that churches often let people stay overnight.  He could do that. 

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he asked the owner.

“Sorry, man, can’t say,” shrugged the blonde with the ridiculous mustache, “I’ve got one of those faces.  Nearly been arrested in a lineup because of that.” Lucifer shrugged. 

“Heh, oh well.  You have a job opening? I’m Nick.”  Best to go with his middle name.  That was easier.  Even though no one outright said anything about him being named after the Devil, people just seemed to respond better to a musician with a normal name. 

“Loki.  My parents were mythology freaks,” he said unapologetically.  “My boyfriend Sam occasionally comes in and works a shift, so he can show you the ropes if you’d like. 

“Sounds good,” Lucifer shrugged. 

 “So.  I’ll have you living in one of the rooms above the bar.  Most of my employees that work in-town prefer it that way.  You can wait tables, work the bar?”  He’d done both before, lying about his age.  He nodded.  “And by chance do you play any instruments?  Friday nights we’ve tried to rope in a performer, but it’s not easy to make it a routine thing.”

“I play guitar and sing,” Lucifer replied, “Drummer too.”

“Great!” Damn, where had he _seen_ that smile before?  “I’ll have you on starting tomorrow.  Move whatever you’ve got upstairs.  I’ve been needing an extra guy for a while now anyway.  And I’ve got good intuition; I think you’ll fit in just fine, Nick.”

And Gabriel swore the entire way through the conversation inwardly, because Lucifer introduced himself by his middle name, and he looked exactly like the Nick that had taken the Devil as a vessel. 

* * *

“Luc?  Is that you?” asked Raphael, flipping through his biology notes. 

“Yeah, it’s me, little bro.  I’ve got a stage name at this little bar east of there.  As far as everyone here knows, I’m Nick Harper.”

“When are you performing?”

“Friday nights.  Figured you’d want to see it.”

“Can Mike come?”

“He’ll get all protective on me.  ‘Why aren’t you using your real name?  Is this guy you’re working for safe?  I don’t like not hearing from you.’  Blah.  Blah.  Blah.”

“You know he means well.”

“Sometimes I’m not so sure.”

“You should’ve seen him when you ran off, Luc.  He was torn up.  He felt like he failed you somehow, made you want to run.”

“. . .”

“What?”

“He didn’t do it.  I _know_ he didn’t, Raph.  But sometimes I have these dreams . . . in places I’ve never been.  And Mike, in them . . . he hates me for whatever reason.  And keeps trying to beat me up.  And sometimes you’re there, standing aside, just staring.  And there’s this other guy who tries to get us to stop, but Mike won’t back down and I’m not going to let him kill me, so we keep going.”

“Are there others in these dreams?”

“Yeah, sometimes.  Only a couple are ever on my side.  Almost everyone is on Mike’s.”

“Any names?”

“No, Raph, I was kind of concerned about waking up or staying alive.  I didn’t get any names.”

“I only asked! . . . I have weird dreams like that too, only . . . only you start the fight, or provoke it somehow, and there’s something wrong when you do. Like you’re out of your mind.  I don’t understand how we could . . . is there a lot of light?”

“Yeah!  How would you—did we have a weird sibling thing?”  He would have chalked it up to that if he believed it, but . . .

“I don’t know.” 

They talked for a few more minutes.  Luc tried calling again the next day.  No dice.  He shrugged and tried again a few days later.  And again. 

Nothing. 

He got angry fast, and deleted Raphael as a contact.  Mike too, for good measure. He tried the home phone—nothing.  He gave up. 

_Don’t want to talk to your crazy brother anymore, huh?_

Gabriel noticed the change in “Nick’s” mood. 

“What’s up?”

“My brothers won’t answer.  I think I finally scared them off,” he chuckled bitterly. 

“You sure about that?  What if there’s something wrong?”

“Then they would have _called._ ”  Gabriel grimaced. 

“Don’t think that way, Nick.  Would you like to take some time off, drive down to see them?”

“No.” 

* * *

It was _insane_. 

Raphael would have refused to believe it at first, but the evidence was in front of his eyes.  Their mom was alive, somehow.  She was—but then her eyes were blank, and she tore into their father, turning him into nothing but a bloody mess.  Raphael ran, screaming, Mike just at his side. 

“What the everloving _hell_?” Mike snarled.  They got in the car, they drove hard and fast, and Raphael tried to make a call, but a hand grabbed his phone and cancelled it. 

“Huh?” He turned around—there shouldn’t have been anyone in the backseat.  It was a lanky guy with long brown hair and broad shoulders.  He hadn’t been there two seconds ago. 

“Sorry about all this,” the guy said, “There’s so much commotion.  It happened all over the place, and I couldn’t get there in time.  The Rise of the Witnesses isn’t exactly something I expected—or wanted—to relive,” he apologized. 

“If I knew what that was, I’m sure I’d understand,” said Mike, frowning, “Care to explain?”  The guy sighed. 

“Well, first of all, you should know that the things that go bump in the night?  They’re real.  And right now, we’re in the middle of a fight to start the Apocalypse.”

* * *

Gabriel wanted to tear his hair out. 

“ _Hunters_?  That was your big idea to keep them safe?” he bellowed as Sam winced.  He’d explained as much as he could, and left them an extensive hunter’s journal. 

“They were going to end up in the mess anyway.  And if I knew any way to keep them out of the business, I would—but you know as well as I do how well that works.”

“Yeah, yeah—just—now Luc thinks they’ve abandoned him while they’re off on their little excursions, and they are uncomfortably close to the clusterfuck they’re already the center of.”

“You don’t want me to respond with a platitude about your dad and mysterious ways, I take it.”

Gabriel groaned and let his head drop to the table. 

“I miss the teenage years.  No, the toddler years.  That was the fun part.  The most trouble they got in was the time Lucifer let Raph eat blue Play-Doh.”

* * *

Nick—he even called himself that now—finally bought a house.  Sarah was moving in with him.  Life was good.  Until the goddamned burglar. 

He walked in after work.  It was a normal kind of day.  He didn’t see Sarah in the living room or the kitchen.  His daughter, Leah, wasn’t anywhere to be found. 

He found them in their rooms.  He found most of the valuables in the house gone. 

Including their lives. 

He called the police.  They questioned him; he explained.  He was numb all over.  Everything just didn’t matter anymore.  The funeral came and went.  He didn’t call his brothers.  He hadn’t for the wedding either, so why bother them?

Loki seemed concerned. 

“You’re not going to do anything drastic, right?” he asked after a month had passed. 

He’d started having dreams again, but now they were just full of blood and Sarah and Leah. 

One in particular struck.  Sarah spoke to him.  He didn’t understand.  But it repeated, and he began to. 

_“How do I know you're telling the truth?”_

_“Because, contrary to popular belief, I don't lie. I don't need to. What I need...is you. Nick, I need you to say yes.”  It was something he needed—something that seemed almost like it would make him whole._

Nick would tell Loki, “Probably not.  Maybe.”

He told the Devil yes. 

* * *

Gabriel grimaced at the idea of events repeating themselves, but not being able to even get close.  So he distracted Michael and Raphael, keeping them away from the main events of the apocalypse but leading them to stop some of the seals. He asked Sam to go home—he could take it from here. 

“If you’re sure . . .”

“I’m not.  But I’ve got to do this, Sammy.”

“Just be careful, Gabe.  Don’t run into yourself or anyone with the potential to kill you.”

“Duly noted.”

* * *

When Sam said yes and they had left Nick passed out, presumably dead, Gabriel popped in.  He was just barely alive.  But angel grace would burn him if he wasn’t careful, since that’s what caused the pain in the first place.  Gabriel carefully applied pagan healing spells to the surface first, doing it by small increments.  He knew the soul was still there. He had to be careful. 

When it was over with, Nick sat up, gasping. 

“I—what— _Loki_ , what are you—no, Gabriel, the archangel?”  The name seemed to spark something in him, too. 

“Gabe?  Our old babysitter?  Which one am I talking to?” 

“All of the above,” he responded with a little smirk. 

“What the _hell_?  Did you make me a target for him?  Did you really die?  How—What’s going _on_?” he asked angrily. 

“The apocalypse, currently, is being averted.  You’ve been presumed dead.  Raph and Mike have been looking for you.”

“Yours or mine?”

“ . . . yours.  I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know your real names, Lucifer.  Michael.  Raphael. . . and I’m Gabriel.”

“But we’re _human_.  I think I know the difference.”

“You thought you knew when you were an angel, too.”

“I was a vessel, not actually the Devil.”

“Dad thinks he has a sense of humor or something.  In a few years’ time, Lucifer the archangel will become very human, and be de-aged, and get thrown years into the past.  Along with Michael and Raphael.  Haven’t you had dreams about Heaven?”

“I had dreams about fire and screaming.  Of Mike beating me up, and you running off, and Raph just _watching_ it all go down.”  Gabriel winced, and Nick—No, Lucifer—grinned in grim satisfaction. 

“Luc,” Gabriel sighed, “I’m sorry that that’s all you remember.  But there were good times too.  You taught me how to fly, how to use my Grace for tricks.  Of all my older brothers, you were the closest to me.  You were my friend as well as my brother, and that wasn’t the case for very many of us upstairs.”  There.  That was pretty straightforward.

“You’re serious, then.  I’m supposed to believe—that you’re my baby brother.  That my dreams were memories.  That I’m not just freaking crazy.”

“You don’t have to believe it.  I’d certainly like it if you did, though.”

“And if I don’t like the idea of you zapping me one place or another?  If I want to just have a freaking life again, broken but still living?”

“Then be my guest.  The restaurant’s legit.  I invested some babysitting money a few years back,” he gave a smile, “And it turned out well enough.” Lucifer snorted. 

“Right.  Just . . .” he sighed.  “What have I missed, with Mike and Raph?”  To this Gabriel’s grin grew wide. 

“They’re hunters.”

“What?!”

“I didn’t get there in time,” Gabriel confessed, “I was checking on you when I realized they were in a panic.  The Rise of the Witnesses—apparently, your mother was a witness, and had attacked your dad.  She was going to turn on the two of them, but they managed to get away, and Sam, from my time, gave them enough info to survive.  I’m supposed to be your guys’ guardian angel,” he admitted, “Not much of a guardian, huh?  I wasn’t able to heal your mom.  I didn’t make it to your dad.  Well.  At least I kept you guys alive.”  And Lucifer saw it for a brief instant—his baby brother Gabriel, afraid, just like he’d been before he’d learned to fly.  Hiding it beneath sarcasm and pure bravado. 

“C’mere, Gabe,” Lucifer said, and it wasn’t to his babysitter or his boss.

“Luc?” and the human incarnation of the Devil embraced the shorter man.  Gabriel laughed, disbelieving. 

“I don’t remember much.  But . . . enough.  I changed my mind.  Can you zap me to wherever Mike and Raph are?”

“Zap.  Oh, wow, you’re worse than Dean with the ‘angel mojo’ shtick.”  Lucifer’s eyes narrowed.  He’d seen Dean Winchester, Sam too, had seen everything Lucifer had. 

“What’s going to happen to them?”

“I’ll let you three catch up over the Winchester Gospels, and you can find out,” Gabriel assured.  “And maybe meet up with the Winchesters once it’s all over.”

“Why? Apparently they did something which caused me to—“

“They didn’t.  They’re locking you back up in the cage.  Stuff is going to happen.  Dad comes back.  Auntie . . . she did it to you guys.  Dad gave you the option of going straight to heaven or having actual human lives.  You chose to live.”  Lucifer frowned. 

“The guy that used me as a vessel certainly wouldn’t have liked that.”

“Nope.  But I don’t pretend to know what you were thinking.  Or Raph or Mike, for that matter—both of them hated humans almost as bad as you.  They just didn’t act on it.” 

“And you?”

“Well, I have to say I like the little guys.  They’re not that different from us,” he shrugged.  Lucifer snorted. 

“Us.  I’m human, you know.”

“Not always.” 

“Just take me to Raph and Mike.”

“You _do_ know they haven’t seen you in a few years, and that when they see you they’ll think you’re the devil because they happened to be present at one of the massacres you instigated.”

“Shit.  Well.  Just take me to them.  I’ll talk my way out of it somehow.”

“And I’ll be backup!”  The gleeful grin tugged at Lucifer’s heart. 

“Right.  You’ll be backup.  Let’s go.” 

* * *

Raphael’s eyes widened. 

“Mike!  Get in here, now!”  Lucifer was leaning up against their motel room door, and since they were on the third story, their only exit. 

“Yeah, sure—holy shit!”

“Mike, Raph, wait—“ he held up his hands in defense.  “I’m not—I’m not the devil.  Sam said yes, then took control and threw himself into the cage.  _It’s me_.” 

“Why the hell is Lucifer’s old vessel coming to us?” Michael glared, and Lucifer winced. 

“Because I need my brothers.”  Silence. 

“No . . .” Raphael dropped the gun he’d grabbed at the sight of Lucifer. 

“Luc?”

“Hey, bro,” he grinned a little, “Miss me?”

“Why would you—how— _Lucifer_ ,” Mike sounded so broken that Lucifer strode forward to embrace him. 

“What then?  You guys are hunters?  I mean, I knew, but I hardly believed it.”

“Don’t doubt me, Luci,” Gabriel followed in.  Mike narrowed his eyes. 

“Wait—is that—“

“Gabe, your babysitter.  Or Gabriel the archangel from a few years in the future.  Same thing.”

“An archangel?” Raphael backed away. 

“Stop, guys—after Lucifer left my body, I was pretty torn up . . . he saved me.  And there’s more.”

“Like what?” Mike asked. 

“Well, for starters, you are all the first three archangels, my older brothers, turned human.”  Raphael’s eyes widened. 

“So— _that’s_ why—we’re really Raphael, Michael, and Lucifer?  Six wings, heavenly Host, all that?”

“Exactly.  Except no more wings. A series of unfortunate events led to you being turned human, and Dad asked you if you wanted to actually hang around on Earth or go straight to heaven.  We never do things the easy way, huh?”

“But aren’t there other archangels, now?  I think—I remember seeing someone with wings,” Raphael frowned, “Except all I see is Dean Winchester’s face.  Thought it was a dream, you know, apocalypse, the Michael Sword, but . . .”

“Nope,” and Gabriel’s voice tightened a bit, “Future stuff.  That was Dean you saw.  Sam and Adam, probably, too, if you poke around in your memories a bit.”

“Sam’s an angel?” Lucifer asked, surprised.  He did recall “Loki” having a boyfriend named Sam . . . _oh_ . . .

“Yup.” 

“When am I going to get to give him the shovel talk?” he continued, a sly grin forming. 

“What talk?” Michael asked. 

“You heard me—the shovel talk.  Not a lot of good it’ll do me, being human and all, but I _do_ have access to holy fire should he ever do anything.”

“It’s a little late for that.  We’re kind of . . . married.”  And Mike and Raphael gaped. 

“So you’re Gabriel Winchester now?” Raphael asked.  It just sounded bizarre. 

“Kinda.  Yeah.  That sounds right.”

“When are we going to meet him?” asked Michael, “And no, I don’t mean the human Sam, because he’d have no clue what’s going on, _your_ Sam however—“

“I probably shouldn’t bring anyone back to this time again until you guys have read these books.  Including the unpublished ones.”  He plopped the stack of novels on the motel bed. 

“Okay.  But you’re sticking around to read them.  The world won’t end without you for a few hours, right?”

“Nope.  In this time, I died already anyway, so—“

“You _died_?” Raphael looked horrified, “Who killed you?”  Lucifer squirmed. 

“I’m sorry, I really am,” he finally said, “Looking at it from a human perspective, I was completely horrible.  I wouldn’t want anything to do with me if I were any of you,” he muttered. 

“Luc,” Gabriel sighed, “That just proves that you’re not him anymore.  Not a psychopath anyway.  You actually care.  More than even the me of this time did when he realized the big showdown was on its way.  When you get your memories back . . . you’ll know what I mean.”

“I don’t want them back!  Eons in the cage?  No thank you!”

“What, you don’t want to be whole again?” Michael frowned. 

“I _am_ whole.  More than that twisted bastard I apparently used to be.  He’s lived a lot longer than me; I’ll just get swallowed up in all that hatred.”

“I don’t think so,” Raphael interrupted.  “I know a little bit about how I was, and it wasn’t pretty either, Luc.  If we all stay together this time around—I think we can keep each other from becoming something we don’t want to be.”

“I know you can,” Gabriel added, “This is kind of how it used to be, before the fall.  But with more angst and less posturing.”

“Shut up,” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “You’re no help.”

“Excuse me? I saved all three of your lives on how many occasions?” he huffed.  “If I’d just left Luc he would have burned up from residual Grace.  If I’d have ignored the vampire attack you two might have gone into hunting believing vampires were the only things out there and gotten slaughtered by a ghoul.  Instead, I compelled Dean Winchester to find you and teach you the basics and give you contacts.”

“And we’re very thankful,” said Michael, amused, “But you’re still our baby brother.”  And there.  It was said. 

“And I helped raise you this time around,” he waggled his eyebrows, “And I happen to remember very well how you were as kids.  The _blackmail_ I’ve got on you.  Two words: Halloween costumes,” he cackled slightly, “But let’s read these books.”

* * *

They’d settled into a routine, taking small hunts on the side.  Michael continued as a librarian, Raphael as a physical therapist, and Lucifer as a musician—and they did well enough for themselves.  Gabriel dropped by often enough to give them updates on the timeline and what was going on. 

“You put them in a _procedural cop show?!_ ” Michael howled with laughter. 

“You possessed their dad and their half-brother,” Gabriel retaliated, “And Luc, well, he can’t be helped.”

“Should I grab the _kielbasa_?” Raphael shot back, eyebrows raised. 

“It was hilarious when I was doing it!” the archangel whined. 

“Yeah, well, it isn’t the way Dad wrote it.  It’s just plain awkward.  You know Cassie doesn’t get that kind of stuff,” Lucifer rolled his eyes. 

“He also hates being called Cassie,” Gabriel pointed out, “Not that that will stop either one of us from doing so.”

“You two are like Fred and George Weasley, I swear it,” Raphael sighed, exasperated. 

“What does that make you?  Percy?” snorted Lucifer.

“This is beyond weird, guys. But in that case, am I Bill or Charlie?” Michael asked. 

“Bill,” nodded Gabriel.  “You’re the oldest.”

* * *

“Gabriel, what’s happening now?  It’s been a while since our last Winchester update.” asked Lucifer.  Gabriel tensed. 

“The angels are falling.”  Lucifer shuddered, rubbing his back unconsciously. 

“I’m sorry,” Michael said quietly. 

“I know, Mike.  All there was to you was Dad’s orders back then,” he shrugged. 

“Wait, you remember?”

“The nightmares, the dreams—when I ran away.  It was of you casting me out, back when I didn’t understand it.” 

“Raphael, do you—“ He grimaced. 

“Only a little.  Remembering that God was nowhere to be found, believing the Apocalypse was the only answer.”

“I don’t remember anything,” Michael frowned, “And I’ve never had any dreams like that.”

“Catching up will take some time,” Gabriel shrugged, “For all of us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Right, finally posting this! It's not going to get any new chapters, but I might edit and add details here and there-this first post is the roughest of drafts, but I couldn't leave it sitting anymore. Yes, parts are copied straight from the original - that's because they were parts of this that I wanted to preview there.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at lyricfrost13.


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